Tales Of Recurrence, Part 1
by fuandon
Summary: A tale of darkness emerging, in a world of light... This was originally intended to be a Tales fan story, but the more I work on it, the further it gets from that classification. The characters, settings, and plot are all of my creation.
1. Prolouge

"In my time, I have seen this world rise and fall like the tides of the ocean. As I now prepare to perform my duty as Chronicler, I feel the tide has begun to come in once again. I fear the events that led this world down a dark path are beginning to repeat themselves. I feel the tug of evil, deep in the shadows of the hearts of men. Thus I fear that my tale shall be one of recurrence; for those who fail to face their past are doomed to repeat it."

Maxwell Nestor, Chronicler


	2. The Warrior With BloodRed Hair

The Republic of Vasalo and the Alkyrian Empire: the two great nations of this land. Some people believe that they were once one great nation, but most regard this as a baseless myth. But the average man knew little and cared little of this world's past; over time, the truth had been filed into dusty books and forgotten in dusty bookcases.

They say that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.

Our story begins in the capital city of Vasalo, which has of late been overrun with crime. The people live in fear, afraid to act against those who have been oppressing them. Their one release is the Coliseum, where the controlled violence seems to give them an artificial sense of comfort. Over time, the Coliseum has become a major force in the city's economy. As a result, it has developed a dark side; many bookkeepers who endorse fighters fix their fights in order to rake in the extra cash. As popular as the fights had become, the dark underbelly of the Coliseum began to rage out of control. Some began to resort to blackmail to fix fights in their favor. For one 17-year old boy, this darkness is all he has ever known of the world.

**Belysning, Capital City of the Republic of Vasalo **

Rumors spread like flames amongst the eager townsfolk. All it took was a little spark, an innocent comment here, a brief mention there, and soon the whole town was a raging inferno, abuzz with the latest 'gossip'. Elio Bugiard, a businessman by trade, and bookkeeper by hobby in the Coliseum, had long since perfected the art of exploiting the town's flammability to a good story. So, when the boy with blood-red hair stumbled into town, Elio gladly took him in with open arms, and had him trained to fight. And thus the flame was lit. He became the youngest to ever compete at the Coliseum, and quickly earned himself a reputation. The next two years went by seemingly in a blur as the fire spread throughout the town into a raging inferno. He quickly became a star amongst the regular combatants at the Coliseum, as many paid to see the boy, hair stained red with the blood of his enemies and eyes cold as ice. Perhaps it was the mystery surrounding his past that intrigued the people. Or maybe it was his skill with a blade, unrivaled amongst his peers. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter to him. Fighting was his life.

The roar of the crowd echoed dully in Keogh's ears as he slouched against the wall, a look of disgust on his face. Another day, another fight, another poor soul cut down and tossed aside. After two years of the same routine in the same arena, every day seemed to run together in Keogh's mind. The only days that stood out from the swirling fog of his life were those when Elio visited the fighters. The occasional word of acknowledgement notwithstanding, Elio had given up his fatherly façade when Keogh began fighting in the Coliseum. After all, he was merely an asset; a worthwhile investment in parenthood to Elio. Although he realized this and hated it, he couldn't argue; Elio was still the only parent he had ever known in his life. Lost in the impenetrable fog his life had become, he began to keep to himself, locking his emotions away inside.

Straightening himself, he looked up for a moment for a quick glance around the room. This was the holding room, a small room where the day's combatants prepared for their duels. Off in the corner, two cots were set up, where a nurse was tending to those injured in the day's beatings. Various weapons were strewn carelessly about the room, left behind from the day's activity. His eyes skimmed over a well-built man, sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, before quickly losing interest. His thoughts turned inward and began to fade once more when the man looked up and spoke.

"Hey, kid, what's your story?" the man asked.

"Does it matter?" Keogh sighed.

"Guess not," he replied, "I just wonder sometimes how a guy like you got caught up in this business..." The man leaned back, a serious expression on his face. "How old are you, anyway? You don't look a day over seventeen to me!" he asked.

Keogh glared at the stranger. "Why do you care?" he shot back.

"Heck, kid! I'm old enough to be your father!" the man said. Keogh looked away, now thoroughly annoyed. The man sighed deeply. "Look...you see, I was...blackmailed a few years back, so now I'm here, working for Elio."

"Blackmailed?" Keogh looked over, surprised and mildly intrigued.

"Yeah, that's right," the man replied, relieved that he finally had Keogh's attention, "Elio's got some sorta dirt on all the regulars that fight here. Call it 'insurance' if you want, but it's enough to keep the best draws around."

"So what does he have on you, then?" Keogh wondered aloud.

The man looked down, his eyes reflecting a sadness from deep within his soul. "My family," he murmured.

"You say something?" Keogh grunted.

"Oh, sorry," the man quickly spoke up, "'Course it's all lies, but if he started spreading it around, my family would be ruined."

"Oh." Keogh snapped, his gaze fixating on the floor at his feet. Suddenly he broke into a grin. "I always knew that Elio was full of hot air!" The man seemed to perk up slightly.

"You mean that crap about your 'blood-stained' hair?" he laughed, "Biggest crap-shoot I've heard in my life!"

Finally, it seemed the feeling of angst in the air was lifted, replaced by a much friendlier atmosphere. The man stood up and held out his hand. "I suppose I should introduce myself," he said, "The name's Duke."

Keogh looked at the outstretched hand, unsure of how to react. He approached Duke slowly yet carefully, feeling quite embarrassed as he offered his hand and Duke gave it a hearty shake.

"What's wrong? Never shake someone's hand before?" Duke grinned.

"Well, um, no," Keogh mumbled, his face flushing a deep crimson.

"Don't worry about it!" insisted Duke. "By the way," he added, "You got any family?"

Keogh merely shook his head.

"Never mind. I can see there's something you don't wanna think about, so I won't bug you," Duke assured, "But I do know one thing. Out of all the regulars here, you're likely the only one who could leave here without consequence."

"W-What's that supposed to mean?" Keogh stammered.

"Get out of here!" insisted Duke, "Live your life in peace! You have a long life ahead of you! Don't waste it cooped up here!"

"But..." Keogh said, quite taken aback at the outburst, "I wouldn't have anywhere to go..."

"That doesn't matter!" Duke continued, "You could start over anywhere; see the world, you know?"

"But...why do you care what happens to me?" asked Keogh.

"I'm sorry," Duke sighed, the pain in his eyes reflected in his face, "It's just, I've got a kid 'bout your age, and..." He shook his head. "I've seen people twice your age lose their sense of humanity here. I'm sure you've seen some of it yourself. They become like animals, chained to this hellhole, only living to fight." He stood up and turned to leave. "I won't force you to do anything, but...if you get the chance, then leave, and don't look back."

Keogh looked away, deep in thought. Before Duke could leave, he spoke up. "Why don't you leave?"

"Me?" came the reply, "I have...unfinished business."

"Your family?"

"Yeah. Plus, I have a score to settle," Duke said, as he made to leave.

"Duke?" He turned around, slightly surprised to hear his name used. "My name is...Keogh. Oh, and...thanks."

Duke cast one last glance over at Keogh, whose eyes were now filled with confusion, fear, and uncertainty. "Whatever happens, Keogh, take care of yourself," Duke said, finally taking his leave.

**The next afternoon...**

Keogh wandered the streets like a lost puppy looking for its mother, his eyes clouded in thought. He passed street vendors peddling their wares without as much as a glance. Moving through the bustling streets, without a set destination, his thoughts wandered to the other day's conversation. How human was he anymore? Perhaps, if he didn't have chances like these; to wander unnoticed amongst the people, he would have lost his sanity long ago. For a moment, all he wanted to do was run as far as he could, to get as far away as possible from this life. Suddenly, he bumped into someone, and snapped back to reality. Turning to apologize, he realized the person was gone, lost in the crowd.

A girl, about seventeen, turned away from the inn and shivered slightly, This whole town gave off a bad vibe to her. She didn't want to stay longer than she had to. If she couldn't find a guide, then she would just go alone. She felt rather out of place here, despite having adopted a simpler traveling outfit since her journey began. Pulling her dark green cloak a bit tighter, she continued to explore the town, which despite feeling so full of life, made her feel uncomfortable. Suddenly, she lost her balance as someone bumped into her from behind. She stumbled, disturbing a group passing the other direction who all shot her disapproving glares before continuing on their way. With a weary sigh, she stopped to regain her composure. After a moment, she tightened her grip on the modest staff she carried, took a deep breath, and continued on her way. Just as she re-entered the masses, a loud yell rang out above the normal daily chatter. She turned to investigate, and heard several raised voices nearby.

Keogh paid and thanked the merchant, taking the shiny red apple he just purchased and holding it up to the sun, watching the light reflect off the smooth, ripe surface. Satisfied, he left the produce stand behind and continued on. His thoughts wandered to his own past. As much as he tried, he couldn't remember anything about his own family. The earliest memories he had were his first days here, in Vasalo. He wondered briefly if his father was anything like Duke. That wouldn't be so bad, he thought. After all, Duke was the first person to actually treat him like a human. Keogh shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He had made up his mind; he was going to leave town. He felt unsure of himself, for he realized that he knew nothing about the world outside. He had to do it, for the only person who was ever kind to him...

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud yell that rang in his ears. Turning to look for the source, he saw two large, muscle-bound thugs threatening an elderly man. He noted that the thugs each carried a sword, and moved closer, just in case things got out of hand. These kinds of incidents were everyday occurrences in the city. A band of thugs were based here, making their living preying on the weak. The worst part was the people normally turned a blind eye to these robberies, just praying to not be the next target. Although Keogh never moved about armed inside the city, he was still more than capable of defending himself if necessary. He picked his way through a group of people whohad stopped to watch briefly, and found himself at the source of the disturbance. What he saw next surprised even him.

The girl forced her way through the crowd toward the source of the yell. As she drew closer, she saw two massive thugs shove an elderly man up against a wall. She arrived at the scene right as the larger of the thugs moved to draw his sword.

"Stop it!" she yelled, "He can't defend himself! Stop!"

The two thugs laughed. "Now what have we here?" the larger of the two mocked, "Do yourself a favor and get out of our way!" The girl didn't flinch, her eyes reflecting a determined glare.

"So you're serious, huh?" the larger thug said, slightly annoyed, "Don't say I didn't warn you!" He drew his sword and raised his arm to strike. A quick hand shot out and seized his wrist. "You'd raise a sword against a woman?" Keogh snapped, as he began to twist the thug's wrist, "You people really are pathetic!" He swung his leg out, landing a blow to the back of the thug's knee. The thug fell to his knees, releasing his grip on his sword. Keogh took the stunned thug and deftly threw him into his partner, sending both tumbling into the middle of the street. Now wielding the dropped sword, Keogh approached the downed thugs and pointed the blade at the larger of the two. "C'mon," he mocked, "Give it up!"

The thug cursed under his breath, and tossed Keogh the wallet he had pilfered. Keogh turned away to return the wallet when the two thugs stumbled to their feet.

"HEY!" the larger thug yelled. He looked around helplessly at the crowd that had gathered. "Fine!" he yelled, "Don't think we're gonna let you get away with this! We're not through with you!" With that, the two thugs fled.

"You shouldn't have done that...now they'll come after you too!" the old man moaned.

Keogh handed the man his wallet and stepped back. The girl was crouched beside the man, checking on him. "But, what about you?" she asked, a concerned look on her face.

"I'll be fine!" he said, "Thank you for your help. Both of you." He struggled to his feet, and with a nod, turned and left.

"He's right, you know..." scolded Keogh, "They'll be after us now...what were you thinking?"

She glared back at him. "I wasn't about to let someone innocent get hurt!" she scoffed. Around them, the crowd had lost interest and dispersed, resuming their normal routines.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Keogh wondered. "You see," he added quickly, "No one here would have done what you just did."

The girl looked quite distraught over his remarks. "That's terrible..." she cried. She turned to him, her eyes burning with emotion. "Why doesn't anyone do anything about this?"

Slightly stunned by the emotion in her voice, Keogh paused to think for a second. "Perhaps," he decided, "this place brings out the worst in people. That's why I was leaving, anyway."

"Leaving? Perfect!" she smiled, "I was looking for a guide, anyway!"

"G-guide?" he stammered, regretting his choice of words, "I'm no guide!"

"Is that so?" She looked disappointed. "Well, do you know anyone else?"

"Well..." he pondered. A light bulb came on in his head as he was struck with inspiration. "Yeah, I think so..."

"Could you talk to them for me?" she asked. "Meet me there when you're ready to leave. Oh, and thanks...for saving me back there..." Keogh nodded curtly and the two parted ways.

**Two hours later...**

Carrying everything he had to his name, which consisted of the clothes on his back and his sword, Keogh headed toward the inn. He was unable to find Duke, the one person who came to mind with knowledge of the outside world. So, in an attempt to cover his tracks, he left an anonymous note asking Duke to meet him nearby. He wasn't sure what he saw in this mysterious girl from the outside, but he knew that she was his ticket out of here. Whether Duke agreed to help or not, Keogh planned to find any excuse to leave town with the girl. He paused for a moment and looked up at the sky. Perhaps it was her eyes that struck him the most. In the markets earlier, when he talked to her for the first time, he noticed her eyes radiated with emotion. He could see her honesty and sincerity, as well as a hardened determination that stunned even him. Keogh quickly shook his head and cleared his thoughts. Whatever it was, he'd think about it later, once he was out of here.

From the shadows of a secluded alley, three pairs of eyes followed Keogh's movements; watching, waiting. They stalked him like a starved lion, keeping their composure, but dying for a chance to strike. Right as the bandits' impatience peaked, a large thug sauntered up behind them, a large wooden club replacing his stolen sword. He put his hand on the center bandit's shoulder and nodded. Without a sound, the three figures and their boss disappeared, moving softly, keeping their wits about them, and preparing to strike.

After what seemed like an eternity, Keogh was finally nearing the inn. He took a deep breath, and stopped in his tracks, his hand on his sword. Something was wrong. Picking up a slight movement behind him, he ducked, dodging a wild swing from a wooden club aimed at his head. However, he lost his balance and stumbled, leaving him open to a vicious blow to the back of the head. The world seemed to spin around him as he fell, grinding to a halt in the dirt on the street. Blood began to trickle out of his nose, but he could already feel it pooling in his throat. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he felt himself hoisted upright. A hard slap to the face jarred him back into this world, and cleared his vision slightly. He looked up and saw the face of the thug he had embarrassed earlier, wearing the grin of a snarling wolf.

"So, you're that hot-shot warrior with the bloodstained hair, huh?" he smirked, "Kinda disappointing, if you ask me. I was expecting more of a...struggle!" He jabbed his club into Keogh's chest, prompting a violent coughing fit as he struggled to catch his breath. The thug and his bandit pals laughed wildly. He grabbed Keogh by the arm and flung him headfirst into the ground. "Let's put him out of his misery!" he snarled.

Those words echoed in Keogh's head as he crashed to the earth a second time. Unable to find the strength to move, he braced himself for the forthcoming blow. A dull thud rang out, but he didn't feel it. Suddenly, he heard footsteps moving quickly around him. Two more dull thuds rang out, along with muffled screams. A frantic voice seemed to be pleading with someone, but was quickly silenced with another thud. Another, lighter pair of footsteps grew closer, but he no longer cared; his senses dulled as he lost the will to remain alert. He felt himself being turned over gently, and found himself looking into those eyes which had stunned and captivated him earlier. The last thing he remembered before passing out was seeing a look of grave concern in her eyes, and hearing her say, "You're going to be ok, please..."

_You're going to be ok...I promise..._


	3. A New Lease On Life

He was having that same dream again: suspended in swirling darkness, the silence suffocating. He felt a sharp tingling all over, as if he was being pricked with a thousand needles at once. He tried moving his limbs, but every movement merely led to greater pain. He was trapped. He tried to look over his surroundings, but he couldn't move his head or open his eyes. He suddenly felt terribly cold and lonely. He wanted nothing more than to escape from this desolate darkness, bur where could he go? There was nowhere he could go even if he could move. Suddenly, a great light appeared in the distance, burning with warmth against his sightless eyes. He desperately tried reaching out to the light, and at last felt his arm move, but this brought about an unbearable, searing pain that quickly spread throughout his body. The pain was becoming unbearable; all he wanted to do was scream! Then, finally…

He screamed.

Instantly he came to his senses; he felt…warm, thankfully. A few sparse rays of sunlight had frolicked over the thick blanket which now covered him, leaving him in their warm embrace. He looked up at the window next to the bed he found himself on, where the dawn sunlight was slowly sneaking in. He quickly pushed the blanket off and stood up to examine his new surroundings. It was right about then that he realized how much he was hurt. A dull pounding in his head, coupled with a sharp, piercing pain in his chest, was more than enough to ground him again with a dull thud.

"Hey, what the…" a voice cried out from the next room, followed by footsteps. "You're in no shape to be going anywhere, mister!"

Next thing he knew, she was at his side, helping him up. That same girl he had only met a day ago; he barely knew her. Why was she…here…? He couldn't remember…and he was in too much pain to care, regardless. With her assistance, he struggled to find his balance and make his stiff and sore limbs work. His head still throbbed, but the pain began to let up once he was safely in bed. Satisfied, she sat down on a chair near the bed, looking rather perturbed.

"Don't you dare try that again, got it?!" she scolded.

"Sorry…" whispered Keogh, eyes closed, trying to relax.

"I'm pretty sure you broke a few ribs, so just take it easy the next few days, ok?" she reassured him, visibly upset, "It's safe here, so don't worry."

Silence fell back over the room. She wanted to apologize to him, but he was already asleep. For the past day she had been telling herself that maybe, if she hadn't tried to play the hero on her first day in the city, none of this would have happened. More than anything she hated the reality she had found here, on her first visit to the capital. She had witnessed it firsthand the night Keogh was attacked. There was silence; then suddenly a rush of voices and a blur of activity from outside. Rushing out to see what was happening, she found a powerful-looking man beating several thugs off a bloodied, limp body. She was shocked to recognize the red mop of hair from the man who had helped her earlier that day. Fortunately, he was alive, albeit badly injured, so she attempted to treat his wounds. Satisfied that the thugs were either gone or unconscious, the powerful-looking man approached her. Duke, he introduced himself as. Duke paid for a room at the inn and asked her to take care of the wounded Keogh for a few days.

"You stay here; it's too dangerous for you to be in town."

"Um, are you his father?" she had asked him.

"No, just a concerned friend. Take good care of him."

With that, Duke left. A day had passed since that incident when Keogh woke up for the first time. He was in pretty bad shape; based on her rudimentary knowledge of first aid, she suspected he had a concussion and several broken ribs, not to mention the black eye, broken nose, and numerous other bruises. 'Who would do this to another human being?' she thought. Satisfied he was fast asleep, she turned to leave him be once more, when he spoke up. He had been working up the nerve to ask her the one question bugging him since they met.

"So…umm…" he quietly spoke up, "I don't even know…err…what's your name?"

Surprised, she turned to face him, smiling softly. "It's Aria," she said.

Keogh breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again. "Nice to meet you, Aria…"

Before she could reply, he was fast asleep.

"I'm sorry, Aria."

Those three words had caught her completely off guard. The sun shone brightly on her third day in the city, but no word from Duke had come yet. Although still bruised and sore, Keogh appeared to be much more coherent today. He was awake and talking, but this was the last thing she expected to hear.

"W-what? Why?" she asked him, surprised.

"I've taken up too much of your time, haven't I?"

"Don't say that! You're the victim, here!" she scolded. "Besides, your friend asked me to take care of you."

"Really?" he wondered. He didn't have any friends in his line of work.

"Yeah, what was his name…" she recalled, "Duke!"

"Duke?!" he said, surprised. Duke was there? He recalled barely hearing a scuffle going on around him after the thugs had left him alone. Was that him?

"He found you before I did. You were hurt pretty bad, so don't apologize, ok?" she smiled.

"Ok," he replied, "Sorry." Aria sighed; 'What a piece of work,' she thought.

"By the way, I never got to ask," he spoke up, "Why did you come here in the first place?"

"Well, I was looking for someone," she replied.

"Did you find them?"

"Your friend Duke is asking around in town for me. He should be back later today," she said. Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, she asked nervously, "Keogh? Do you remember your parents at all?"

Keogh shook his head no. "Sorry," she sighed, "Well, I grew up in an orphanage. The couple who run it, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, are the only parents I've ever known. Just last week, Mr. Nelson disappeared. I just…just…" Aria looked like she wanted to cry. "I just wanted to help them! That's why I came here!"

"I'll help" Keogh said.

"What?"

"I'll help!" he repeated, trying to sit up, and grimacing in pain as a result. "I'll help…once I can move again."

"Okay, then hurry up!" she laughed.

"I'm trying!" he smiled, closing his eyes.

"Thanks…" she whispered softly.

**Later that day… **


	4. Taking Action

Legend tells of a Belysning in the past which was ruled by sheer power; thus the Coliseum served as the court of law. The strong won power and the weak were slain. Criminals were forced to fight for their lives: If they lived, they were acquitted. If not, then their punishment was already delivered. The public always came out in full force to witness these 'trials'. Over time, once a traditional government emerged, the grand Coliseum of old lost its political significance, but endured as a source of entertainment. With this change came new potential, as eager merchants quickly populated the area around the Coliseum, opening their stands and peddling their wares, leading to the birth of what is now known as the Great Market Square.

Marko was a simple merchant; well, that's what he always told himself. No one needed to know anything about him; they just needed to buy what he was selling. Those few who knew him well knew he would gladly sell anything he could make a profit on. What he did to garner such profits…well that was his business. Who really cared if he made a little extra on the side? His customers weren't smart enough to notice the little price increases from time to time. Besides, Marko felt like he was entitled to his money! He paid out enough of a cut to them monthly; all he wanted was more for himself! What was so wrong with that?

He shrugged that thought from his mind as he tended to his produce stand just north of the Great Market Square. His stand was set up outside of his home, for he did not trust it left alone overnight. From here, he got enough customers to make his living. Today, however, business was slow. Fewer customers than normal were passing through; those who did were the few regular customers he had managed to befriend over the years. So, when three strangers showed up in front of his stand, he approached them with his usual frenetic fervor.

"Can I help you?"

**One Day Earlier...**

"Are you sure about this?" asked Aria.

"Look," Duke replied, "This city is ruled by violence. If we want to learn anything, we're gonna have to throw our weight around a little."

"But...blackmail?" Aria said, looking rather put off by the whole situation.

Keogh sat up on the bed, wincing slightly from his heavily bandaged ribs. "If it makes you feel any better, the guy's a crook himself," he reassured her.

"If you don't want to be a part of this, Aria, then stay here. You don't have to come with," said Duke.

Aria shook her head, regaining her composure. "I'll go. If...if this is what's really going on in the world, then...I'll face it too."

Keogh stood up, his ribs still clearly bothering him. "Count me in!" he chimed in, surprisingly energetic. Although still thoroughly battered, Keogh had improved a great deal over the past day. The swelling around his eye had gone down, his nose looked normal, and several of the less serious bruises had healed completely. Most importantly, he had fully regained his faculties, and was eager to get back on his feet again.

"Are you sure?" Aria asked. "You're still..."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I told you I'd help, remember?"

Blushing slightly, she nodded, "Alright..."

"Okay, we'll move early tomorrow morning, to be safe," Duke addressed them both, "We'll be able to find him at his stand then. Get some rest, you two. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day!"

"Can I help you?" Marko the merchant approached Keogh first, who had his eye on some fresh red apples on display. As Marko turned to greet the other two, Duke grabbed him by the neck and threw him to the ground roughly.

"We need to talk," growled Duke. Marko yelped in fright. Desperate, he tried to run, stumbling to his feet, only to have a red apple bounce off his skull with a dull thud. He fell to the earth with an anguished cry, and Duke promptly grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him to his feet again. "Inside!" Duke ordered, forcing him toward the door.

"Nice throw..." commented Aria. Keogh shrugged, tossing her an apple and following Duke inside. From across the street, a tall, middle-aged man followed their movements closely. He had a long, thin scar over his right eye, but his eyes glistened with intelligence. Reaching into his black trenchcoat, he pulled out a throwing knife with a small roll of paper tied on the handle. He carefully tested the balance of the blade in his hand, picking his target carefully. In one swift motion, he loosed the blade, which silently found its mark. Satisfied, he donned a black fedora and disappeared into the nearby alley.

"I'll see you soon...my children..." he whispered.

"What do you want from me? Take what you want, just don't kill me!"

Inside, Duke had forcibly sat Marko down in an attempt to calm him down. The poor merchant still shook uncontrollably in a state of perpetual panic. Aria and Keogh stood to the side, leaving Duke in charge of the proceedings.

"Look, we're not here to hurt you," Aria tried to reassure Marko, "Or rob you; we just have some questions."

"Okay," Duke sighed, "Who do you work for?"

"No one! I run my own..." Marko retorted.

"The people you have to pay..." Duke interrupted, "Who are they?"

"What? But...I don't know them!" stammered Marko, "They just show up once a month and..."

"Who do THEY work for?" Duke cut in.

"T-the Hawk!" Marko cried, "Happy?"

"Who's this Hawk fellow?" Aria whispered to Keogh.

"The Hawk? Only the most dangerous of the three warlords in charge here," he replied.

"Wait, did you say three?"

"Yeah, three. Let's see here...we have the Falcon, who roams by day. Remember those two thugs we took out in the market? They were the Falcon's thugs. Then we have the Owl, who roams by night, preying on those brave enough to be out after dark."

"Then, those thugs who attacked you that night..." Aria mused, beginning to understand.

"Sent by the Owl, I presume." he said, finishing her thought.

"So the Falcon roams by day, and the Owl by night. Where does that leave the Hawk?" she wondered.

"We're fortunate to not have encountered the Hawk yet."

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Because we'd be dead. Those under the Hawk are skilled assassins and masters of blending into a crowd. While the other two rely on petty violence to rule, the Hawk and his men are pure killers."

Killers... Aria felt a chill go down her spine at the thought of anything happening to Mr. Nelson...

Meanwhile, Duke had given up on learning anything useful from their bumbling merchant. He had explained their situation to him, but to no avail. Marko heard many things in his line of work, but he did not know of any outsiders in the city lately. Plus, Marko didn't have near enough guts to ask questions of those above him; he knew his place in society! Completely irritated, Duke approached the others.

"Next time, you do the talking..." he sighed, "That got us nowhere."

As Duke and Aria headed for the door, Keogh pulled a coin from his pocket and tossed it to Marko.

"W-what's this?" he asked.

"It's for the apple," said Keogh, turning to follow, "Thanks."

"Keogh!" Duke yelled. He had opened the door to find a throwing knife buried in it. Pulling it out, he noted the small scroll of paper around the handle.

"What is it?" Duke handed him the scroll, which he unrolled and read aloud.

"_Why waste your time? You want answers? Come find me...if you dare! Signed...the Hawk!_"

Its a blindfold kick back type of a game  
Callled the Kansas City Shuffle  
Whereas you look left and they fall right  
Into the Kansas City Shuffle  
Its a they-think you-think you don't know  
Type of Kansas City hustle  
Where you take your time  
Wait your turn  
And hang them up, and out to dry

(indistinct voice)

Its a shakedown switch arrive in town  
Type of Kansas City Shuffle  
Gotta' make both sides and let it ride  
On the Kansas City Shuffle  
Now the tables turned the lessons learned  
You've gotta earn yourself some trouble  
Revenge like this, never sweet-  
You've got yourself a long ride home

(indistinct voice)

SHODAN: "In my talons, I shape clay, crafting life forms as I please. Around me is a burgeoning empire of steel. From my throne room, lines of power careen into the skies of Earth. My whims will become lightning bolts that devastate the mounds of humanity. Out of the chaos, they will run and whimper, praying for me to end their tedious anarchy. I am drunk with this vision. God: the title suits me well."

the hawk, the falcon, the owl


End file.
